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THE VETERAN HERO. 






A EUNEEAL DISCOURSE, 



DEEITEEED IX 



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i\i fwA '^m^lim l\m\] nf \\i €^\\\ d! Hftrnit, SJlirljignn, 




On the IStb of April, 1851, 



iT THE INTERMENT OF TIIE KEJUIXS- OF THE LATE 



•j 



HUGH BRADY, 



BREVET MAJOR GEIfERAL OF THE UXITED STATES ARMY. 



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BY GE 



— ^r~ 

ORGE T)UFF1ELD, 



PASTOR OF THE FIRST PRESBYTERIAX CTIURCH. 



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PUBLISHED BY REQUEST. 




DETROIT: 

A. McFAKREN, PUBLISHER. 
1851. 



"^ssEumm^^E^mssE^mz^^i^^ms^E^ 




A FUNERAL DISCOURSE 

DELIVERED IN 

€^i fmi ]}m\i\]\nm Cjjurrji nf tjiE (C^itij nf Mmi, Blitjiigan, 

ON THE 18th of APRIL. 1851, 
AT THE INTERMENT OP THE REMAINS OF THE LA.T^ 

HUGH BMDY, 

BREVET MAJOR GENERAL, 

OF THE UNITED STATES ARMY. 






BY GEORGE DUFFIELD, \r | "] 

PASTOR OF THE FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH. 



PUBLISHED BY REQUEST. 



D E TR I T : 
A. McFARREN, PUBUSHER. 

r- 1851. 



e:\8\ 



Entered according to Act of Congress, the lOth day of November, A. D. 1851, by 

A. McFARREN", 

In the Clerk's Office, of the U. S. District Court, for the Distiict of Michigan. 



DuneMee, Wales tfc Co., Steam Press Print. 



DISCOURSE. 



5 Sam. xiv. 14.— For we nnist needs die, and are as Avater spilt on the ground^ 
which cannot be gathered up again : Neither does God respect persons ; yet 
doth He devise means that His banished be not expelled from Him. 

Another, and a veteran hero has fallen ! Death has num- 
bered with his victims, the gallant soldier, the honorable citi- 
zen, the lofty-minded patriot. We gather round his mortal 
remains to deplore our loss. Both in his social relations— as 
the affectionate father, the warm-hearted friend, the kind and 
pleasant neighbor, and the generous helper of the needy and 
distressed ; and in his public — as the ornament and pride of 
our city, the boast and delight of the army, his country's 
treasure, and a bright jewel in her fame — we have much in 
this loss to mourn. Tears become us when we approach the 
tomb, especially when we convey "the mighty man and man 
of war" to the house appointed for all living. 

It was near the cemetery of Bethlehem, where t\ro sorrow- 
ing sisters went to weep over the grave of a brother beloved, 
the blessed Redeemer met them, and, mingling his tears with 
theirs, preached that memorable discourse, in which He spake 
words of consolation and of hope to their afflicted hearts. We 
would follow this divine precedent ; and here, assembled to 
weep by the bier of one so deeply, universally, and justly be- 
loved, would extract from the text a few thoughts appropriate 
to the scene, and prefatory to a short sketch of his history and 
character. 

The words were, indeed, those of an artful woman, instiga- 
ted and employed by a much more artful politician antl fero*- 



dous warrior. But they, nevertheless, express truth of deef? 
and solemn moment. 

1. They declare the sterx necessity of death. "We 
must needs die." Intellectually, we all admit it ; but rarely 
do men realize it, lill they find themselves already in the grasp 
of the destroyer. "It is natural, and, therefore, necessary.'^ 
say many. That is all they know of it, or care to know — 
thinking that, as a mere debt of nature, they must yield when 
payment is enforced. They see the flowers spring, and blos- 
som, and decay ; endless tribes of living creatures, in ever 
succeeding generations, appear, and flourish, and pass through 
their short day of action and enjoyment ; dwellings and tem- 
ples moulder and crumble into dust ; mighty piles of massive 
architecture lose their strong consistency, and corroded, un- 
dermined by lime, fall, by their own weight, in ruins ; the 
aged oaks and cedars of the forest bend and bow beneath the 
weight of years ; vast empires are dissolved and perish by the 
violence of others, and their own internal revolutions ; even 
rocks and mountains lie down amid their own debris ; every- 
thing terrestrial finds a grave. The sculptured memorials per- 
ish from the marble, and the tomb itself, losing its pomp and 
magnificence, adds but its heap of dust to the ashes it con- 
ceals. Such is the law of nature. Death is inevitable aliko 
to prince and peasant. 

Sterner still is that necessity. Death is the righteous retri- 
bution of a holy God, for the punishment of the guilty. "The 
wages of sin is death." The inevitable endurance of this dread 
evil is bound upon us by the righteous decree of Heaven. The 
natural does but follow the moral constitution. This awful 
scourge and curse is the first consequence of sin. We are 
not scions of the tree of life, but the degenerate sons of fallen 
and guilty parents ; for "As by one man, sin entered into the 
world, and fleath by sin, so death has passed upon all men, for 
that all have sinned." It is because the human race is a race 
of sinners — a fallen, guilty, condemned race — that "We must 
needs die." 



2. And, what is worse, there is an utlcf impossibility, on our 
part, or that of any mere mortal of our race, to restore the life 
which has been forfeited by sin. ''We are as water spilt upon 
the ground, which cannot be gathered up agahi." Ever fickle 
and fluctuating, Hable to be ruffled by every breath, and agi- 
tated by every tempest, men are as unstable as water Ko 
absolute and solid coherence of our parts, at any moment, 
prevents a sudden dissolution. Men die without rule, and aa 
often without, as with occasion. Some linger in tedious con- 
sumption, wasting by slow degrees ; while others, in robust 
health and vigor, are carried past their doors, to the toll of the 
funeral bell, long before their departure. Iniancy, childhood, 
middle life, and old age, are alike unprotected by any senti- 
nel, or invincible guard, to repel the insidious approach of 
death. 

Men often kill each other, and kill themselves, and sport 
with life, as little children do with water — dashing and scat- 
tering it around them. The drunkard, the glutton, and the 
vile, throw away their lives, and hosts of the race allow their 
years to waste, as does water through a sieve. And, when 
once gone, they can never be recalled. "The redemption of* 
the soul is precious, and it ceaseth for ever." All the wealth 
of this world ; all the skill of the wisest among mortals ; all 
the entreaties, cries, and tears, of devoted friends ; the highest 
traits of virtue ; the claims of riches and beneficence ; the po- 
litical grandeur, consequence, and influence, of men of loftiest 
stations and relations — the mighty minds, toward whom all eyes 
are turned ; the power, prowess, and energies, of the greatest 
warriors — the great bastions of their countries' defence, on 
whom the hearts of nations rest ; none, nor all, are sufficient 
to recall and raise the dead to life again — no more than can 
the water be recovered from the soil, \vhen once it has been 
"spilt." For, 

3. In the infliction of death, God regards with perfect indif- 
ference, all the distinctions of human rank and condition, wJiich 
so often dazzle the minds of mortals. "Neither doth God re- 



spect any man." He has no favors to ask from the rich, for 
which they may expect exemption. The poor have no claims 
upon Him for His pity. He disregards aUke the infant's ten- 
derness, and the old man's feebleness. The strength of man- 
hood ; the bloom of youth ; wit^ wisdom, learning, beauty^ 
brilliant talents ; all are equally level in the grave. Neither 
king nor peasant, neither warrior nor sage, can claim aught at 
the hand of God, by reason of their condition here. "It is ap- 
pointed unto all men once to die ;" and the sad story, sooner 
or later, must be told of each — "He has departed, and under 
an arrest, for the judgment of the great day." We must quit 
all our vain delights, and all our darling sins, or stand con- 
demned at His bar, "who respects not any man." 

Sad prospect, say you, my hearer 1 Is there no hope ? — no 
consolation 1 Shall we go hence, and be seen no more 1 Must 
we exchange our fair abodes for the dark chamber of the 
grave ? Must we be carried from our beds of down, and laid 
beneath the moistened clay, and dewy, tearful sod] Must 
these bodies, in which we live, and move, and find so much and 
such sweet delight in the bosom of our families, in the society 
of beloved children, be made the companions of worms, and 
join in the revels of their corruption 1 Is there no light in the 
shade of this dark picture '?— no escape from this wretched- 
ness 1 — no mitigation of such a dire calamity ? Must we be 
poured out like water, and never gathered up again? 

Did we make sense, or reason, our oracle here, the response 
would only deepen our gloom, and send us back to life, to pon- 
der, with deeper horror, the stern, inexoraljle necessity of 
death. Gladly should we cast upon it the pall of the grave, 
and bury it for ever from our sight and thoughts, did we know 
nothing of what awaits the soul, when it escapes from the 
prison and fetters of this mortal body. To be torn from kin- 
dred, friends, and scenes of honor and ambition, of wealth and 
pleasure here, and pass — we know not where — as wretched 
exiles, at best, from a world we once enjoyed, were, itself, 
enough to make the grave a place of horror. 



The pains, and groans, and dying strife. 

Might well affright our souls away, 
And bid us still cling close to life — 

Fond of our prison and our clay 

There is nothing in death itself but what is shockingly re^ 
volting to all our sensibilities. Nor can mere nature. ever be 
reconciled to it. We cannot gild the tomb, and make it a pal- 
ace of light and bliss. Nor does the Savior of sinners propose 
to do so. He holds, indeed, "the keys of hell and death ," but 
it is to unlock, and liberate from their power. And, blessed be 
His name, we are assured that, 

4. "/^/e doth devise means that His banished he not expelled 
from Him.'' He Himself hath passed through the portals of 
the grave, and there left the marks of His own atoning blood — 
the imprint of His own most gracious footsteps. Having es- 
caped from its gloomy dominion, He has marked the way, and 
given the pledge, that "Whosoever shall believe upon Him, 
shall not perish, but have everlasting life." "Through death, 
He hath destroyed him that hath the power of death — that 
is, the Devil — and delivered those who, through fear of death, 
were, all their life-time, subject to bondage." "Oh, Death ! 
saith He, I will be thy plague ; oh, Grave ! I will be thy de- 
struction ! Thy dead men shall live ; together with my dead 
body, shall they arise." "I am He that liveth, and was dead, 
and am alive for ever more — Amen ; and have the keys of 
Hell and death." Believing His word, and committing our 
souls to Him, as to a faithful Creator, death loses its horror. 
Its aspect changes, and we become prepared to meet it — no 
longer the king of terrors, but the summons from our exile 
here. "In my Father's house," says He, "are many mansions. 
If it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a 
place for you." 

What may be the circumstances of the abode of those who 
die in faith, while they live in their separate state, we presume 
not to inquire. It is enough to know, "He has devised means 
that they be not expelled from Him." "To be absent from the 
body, is to be present with the Lord." Though banished, as it 



8 

were, from earth, they are gathered to Himself, just as truly as 
His soul ascended to His Father God ; and they enter that 
"house, not made with hands, eternal in the heavens," where 
they remain, during their separation from the body, in the 
same condition that His own soul did, during the period be- 
tween His death and resurrection. In this state, they are fso 
received and "sealed with the earnest of the spirit of God," 
that this intermediate position, though not the full glory to 
which they are destined, is inconceivably more desirable than 
all the w^ealth, pleasures, honors, and kingdoms, this fallen, 
guilty world has to bestow. Hereafter, when Jesus Christ 
shall come to raise the bodies of His saints, although they may 
have long been banished from the scenes of earth, they shall 
"enter into the joy of their Lord," and, ever dwelling in full 
glorified condition, "reign with him," as "Icings and priests to 
God."' The faith that ventures, implicitly and absolutely, on 
the word of His promise, can cheerfully leave the whole devi- 
sing in His hands, and rest assured we shall not be expelled 
from Him. To be with Christ, is Heaven, and bliss complete, 
wherever, and under whatever circumstances, that may be. 

It is obvious, however, that, to be fitted for that happy 
place, there must be the love of Christ. For, devoid of it. His 
presence never can be relished. 

The thought, that the warm and generous heart, which once 
glowed with such gallant zeal and love for his country's honor, 
had felt the piilsations of a still more vigorous affection for the 
Friend and Savior of sinners, sweetly comforts us on this sad 
occasion, and sheds a richer perfume around the name and 
memory of General Hugh Bradv, than all the laurels which 
were ever wreathed, or blossomed, on his manly brow. Mod- 
est, humble, and averse from seeking his own praise, his spirit 
would be grieved, should it have cognizance of any unfounded 
or extravagant attempt at panegyric. Yet would we do vio- 
lence to our own and your feelings alike, beloved hearers, 
should wc refrain, wholly, from some tribute to his personal 
^nd social worth. 



His life and history form one of the few remaining h'nks that 
connect the present generation — now dwelhng at case, in the 
enjoyment of tlie Uberty, prosperity, and greatness, of our glo- 
rious confederacy — wilJi the olden times that tried men's souls. 

The greatest portion of his extended life was spent upon the 
borders of our wide and rapidly spreading country. Familiar 
with Indian warfare and perils, from his very infancy, when 
called into his country's service, he had been schooled and 
trained for courageous deeds. He was the fifth of six broth- 
ers, who, with four sisters, formed the family of Captain John 
Brady, of revolutionary memory. He was born on the 29th 
of .Tuly, 1708, near the Standing Stone, now Huntingdon, amid 
the mountains of Pennsylvania ; and, when but eight years of 
age, his father, and eldest brother, James, were both called to 
engage in the stormy scenes and conflicts of the war for Amer- 
ican independence. Being ordered by General Washington 
for the protection of the frontier, in northern central Pennsyl- 
vania, from Indian hostilities, within three years, both father 
and son h?d fallen on the field of battle, by the hands of savage 
cruelty. 

When left a fatherless youth, of but 1 1 years of age, his 
mother retired to a farm of their own, m Cumberland County, 
where, by the great severity of the weather, and depth of snow, 
during the winter of 1779-'80, they were protected from the 
inroads of the savages. The spring had no sooner opened, 
than Indian hostilities commenced. Some people near her res- 
idence having been killed, she took shelter, with some ten or 
twelve families, on the West Branch of the Susquehannah, near 
her former home. Protected by pickets round their dwellings, 
the old men, and women, and children, remained within during 
the day ; while all who could work, and carry arms, returned 
to the farms, for the purpose of raising somewhat to subsist 
upon. "Many a day" did young Brady "walk by the side of his 
brother John, while he was ploughing — (I use his own language) 
— and while, with one hand,he carried his rifle, with a forked stick 
in the other, he cleared the ploughshare." Their gallant mothei 



10 

often preferred to share the perils that surrounded her sons while 
at work, "behig better content to prepare theii- food near them, 
than remain at the fort." Three years thereafter, when peace 
invited the fugitive famihes from the borders, to return to their 
homes, that gallant and patriotic mother was called away, by 
death, to an eternal home. 

The family was scattered, and, in his 15th year, young Bra. 
dy became an inmate of his brothers family — Captain Samuel 
Brady, then of Washington County, Pa., with whom he lived, 
till, on the 5th of March, 1792, he was appointed an Ensign 
in a rifle company, in General Wayne's army, under command 
of Captain Crawford, a soldier of '76. Previously, his brother 
had removed to Ohio County, Va. The Indian marauding par- 
ties often visited the few sparse settlements on the western 
side of the river Ohio. Before he received his commission, 
young Brady was frequently engaged in parties that went in 
pursuit of the Indians, but only once met them in action, in 
which, notwithstanding the loss of Lieutenant Buskirk, and 
three men wounded out of twenty-two, after a short, but bloody 
fight with an equal number, they were put tf» flight, with the 
loss of eight of their band. He shared the perils and privations 
of the army of General Wayne, which he doubted not, in his 
later years, had been of great service to him in all his future 
military life. 

With his characteristic modesty, he has left among his notes, 
the following notice of that memorable campaign : "The con- 
fidence it gave me has unquestionably been of service to me 
up to the present day. The history and movements of that 
army are before the world ; but its sufferings and privations 
are only known to those who shared them, of Avhich I had my 
full proportion. Our campaign in Canada, during the war of 
1812, was by no means interesting, and its privations, &c., 
were the subject of much discussion. Compared with the cam- 
paign of General Wayne, it was all sunshine." 

At the close of that campaign, he was left at Fort Wayne, 
•where he continued till November, 1795, when he resigned 



11 

his cominission, and returned to dwell annong his kindred. 
With the exception of the years 1798 and '9, during which he 
held commission as a Captain in "Adams' army," as he calls 
it, he continued in private life, until, in 1812, the war again 
called him into the service of his country. "I have rendered 
that country," says he, ''some service, and, with my brother- 
officers, have kept my shoulder to the wheel. This was no 
more than our duty to a country that supports us, and of which 
we are justly proud." 

His gallant behavior on the field of battle, both at Bridge- 
water and Lundy's Lane, the wounds he received, and the 
manner in which a kind Providence preserved his life, are too 
well known to need comment. His history, since that war, is 
public property. His name stands indelibly recorded in the 
annals of his country's fame. With his vigilance and untiring 
energy, and the wisdom he displayed in preventing the out- 
bursts of wild and ruinous excitement, to some extent proving 
contagious among many of our own citizens, during the dis- 
turbance in Canada iu 1837-'8, we are all familiar. Every one 
will bear testimony, as well to his respect for the rights and 
liberties of his fellow-citizens, as to the fidelity and success 
with which he executed the trust reposed in him by the Gov- 
ernment of his country. With scarcely any supply of regu- 
lar troops — 'Sustained and aided mainly by the gallant and 
faithful band that bore his honored name, whose remaining 
members, here, this day, appear among the chief mourners — 
he watched and guarded this frontier so efficiently in that 
perplexing period, that he not only obtained the gratitude and 
praise of our citizens, but the plaudit of the chief commanding 
officer, General Scott, who, after his visit to this State, report- 
ed to the President, that all had been here quieted. We leave 
to others, a fuller sketch of his pursuit of the Indian chief, his 
removal of the Indians from this State, and of his military fife 
in general, and close with a few remarks touching his charac- 
ter. 

Naturally, he was a man of noble soul, who could not brook 



12 

a mean and dishonorable action. Sincere and honest himself, 
he held, in utter contempt, everything like duplicity and false- 
hood. Never lavish or flattering in his professions of regard 
and friendship for others, he was ever prompt in his sympa- 
thies, and firm in his attachments. A truer heart ne'er beat 
in mortal breast. The happiness of others ever gave him de- 
light. Devoid of envy or ambition, that would sacrifice what- 
ever stood in the way of self-aggrandizement, lie made not 
complaint, if even less deserving attained to what was his due. 
He took peculiar delight in the circle of his friends, and cher- 
ished for all, the liveliest affection. His private notes breathe 
the most benignant regards, and the yearnings of the fondest 
heart, for his children, and his children's children. In their 
griefs, he fully shared, when called, as he was frequently, to 
mourn with them the loss of early blossoms, nipped by the 
severe frosts of death. 

He was the ardent friend of his brethren in military service ; 
nor could he endure the least reproach against the army, which 
he loved with almost a father's affection. The soldier's claims 
he never despised ; nor did he ever exalt or press them to the 
injury and injustice of a fellow-citizen. 

His sense of justice was exceedingly strong ; and none would 
be more sure to forfeit his esteem, than they whose selfishness 
would dictate injury or wrong to others. 

His personal influence was on the side of good morals.. He 
was the ardent lover of his country, and of his country's flag. 
Although warmly attached to his native Stale, yet were his 
local attachments all merged in his more devoted affection for 
the glorious union of these free United States. Nor did any- 
thing more quickly rouse him, or more deeply wound him, than 
what tended to rend the bonds of this noble confederacy. He 
was the friend of what he thought tended to promote the pub- 
lic good. 

He was respected by the aged, and loved by the young. 
His heart had not, in the least, been rendered callous, by age, 
to the society and enjoyments of youth. Simple in his man- 



13 

nei's— hating all hypocrisy, and the false parade of fashionable 
regard — he never was Indifferent to the social delights of i'a- 
miUar converse witn old and young of either sex. 

For female worth, and especially unpretending and consist- 
ent female piety, he entertained the highest regard. Soldier 
as he was, he ever acknowledged and felt the charms of fe- 
male excellence. Great had been its influence in the forma- 
tion of his own character, and, we doubt not, in moulding his 
eternal destiny. 

The partner of his bosom was, in every respect, worthy of 
him ; and the bright radiance of her pure, humble, and uniform 
piety, which made her house the sphere of its loveliest and 
most attractive influence, so commended the grace of our Lord 
and Savior, Jesus Christ, and so illustrated its power, as to 
banish all skepticism from his mind, as to the reality and value 
of evangelical religion. T-ong and truly did his widowed heart 
mourn her loss ; and, again and again, as he saw developed in 
his daughters, the piety of the mother, and witnessed their 
happy and triumphant exits from this vain and fleeting world, 
he felt his heart upward drawn, and impressed with a sense of 
the sweetness and value, the importance and necessity, of an 
interest in Jesus Christ. 

Deprived of the benefit of a preached gospel, by reason of 
his utter inability to hear a public speaker, the ordinary pub- 
lic means of grace were unavailing to him ; yet did he reli- 
giously, and with as much pleasure as punctiliousness, liberally 
contribute to the support of religion. Shut out from the house 
of God, of late years he made the Bible more especially his 
study, and conscientiously devoted the Sabbath to its perusal. 
He never doubted its divine authority, nor skeptically ques- 
tioned whether it were the word of God. He had learned 
from thence to watch the developments of Divine Providence, 
in the reality and particularity of which, he was so firm a be- 
liever, that, by some, who know not the difference between 
superstition and religion, he was accounted superstitious. "Is 
it not remarkable," writes he, near the close of life, after re- 



14 

counting the history of his brothers, for the benefit of his chil- 
dren, "that I, who was considered the most feeble of all, should 
outHve all my brothers, after having been exposed to more 
dangers and vicissitudes than any, except Samuel 1 Is it not a 
proof, that there is, from the beginning, *a day appointed for 
man to die V It is said — 'The race is not to the swift, nor the 
battle to the strong ; but safety is of the Lord.' That has ev- 
er been my belief.'" 

That Providence he recognized, not only in his own person- 
al history, but in that of others, and especially of his country ; 
and, most of all, in that of Washington, of whom he ever was 
an impassioned admirer, and to whom he has borne such a 
strong and religious testimony, that we cannot deny ourselves 
the pleasure of extracting it from his diary, being as illustra- 
tive of his own character, as true of the merited object of his 
admiration. 

"Washington ! It matters not by whom, how, or where, 
that name is pronounced ; provided it refers to the man, it has 
a most astonishing effect on me. My heart melts ; my eyes 
fill ; and I am thankful that I am one of the generation in 
which he took so conspicuous a part ! Such a generation as 
his, the world has not witnessed, since the days of our Savior. 
No doubt but that he was a chosen instrument in the hands of 
God, to loosen the bonds of them that were bound, and to give 
liberty to the sons of men. In studying his character, and re- 
viewing the great things he did, and after reading Sparks' life 
of him, I have come to the conclusion, that there was never 
given to any one, so much wisdom as he had throughout his 
life. It strikes me that he was furnished from above. At the 
time he was in need, he not only led the army, but the Con- 
gress, and the whole country. And one of the best evidences 
that could be produced, that the Almighty was at all times by 
his side, is, that the minds of men, both public and privata, of 
high and low degree, were obedient to his call and advice." 

It was General Brady's study of the Bible, that made him 
such a believer in the providence of God. And it is matter of 



15 

thankfulness from all his friends, that we have good reason to 
hopc,the study of that blessed Book had led him to a still high- 
er knowledge and belief. He had not been a stranger to the 
thought of his own death, nor had he, as we received the as- 
surance from his own lips, left the matter of his own soul's sal- 
vation to a dying hour. Although stunned, and terribly injured, 
by the fatal and violent fall from his vehicle, and weakened by 
great loss of blood, he survived long enough to converse free- 
ly with his children and friends. His first wish, expressed to 
his son, when returning to consciousness, was to die. But he 
lived to profess, in the bosom of his' family, his utter destitu- 
tion of all confidence in himself ; his renunciation of his own 
righteousness and good deeds ; and his confident trust in the 
merits and mediation, the blood and righteousness, of Jesus 
Christ — "the only name given under Heaven, among men. 
whereby we must be saved." The promises of God's word, 
on which he rested, were "too plain," he said, "to be mista- 
ken," and they were the foundation of his hope. "His time," 
he believed, "had come," and he was "ready to go." Nor did 
he breathe a murmur, or display, at any time, the least impa- 
tience ; but, calmly and quietly, breathed his soul out into the 
hands of God. 

We trust our loss has been his gain. May you, beloved 
hearers, know and realize the value and efficacy of that grace 
of Jesus Christ, which, where sin has abounded, does itself yet 
much more abound. 

And now — 

Lay his sword on his breast — that time-honored sword, 
whose scabbard, all bruised and battered by many a bullet on 
the field of battle, oft warded off the stroke of- death. Yes — 

Lay (that) sword on liis breast ! There's no spot on its blade, 

1)1 whose cankering breath, his bright lam-els will fade ! 

'Twas the first to lead on at humanity's call — 

It was stayed with sweet mercy, when " glory" was all ! 

As calm in the council, as gallant in war, 

He fought for his counti-y, and not its " huiTah I" 

In the path of the hero, with jDity, he trod — 

Let him pass, -with his (hope,) to the presence of God. 

For the stai's on our banner, grown suddenly dim. 
Let us weep in om- darkness — but weep not for him. 



LINES 

ON THE DEATH OF 

BREVET MAJOR GENERAL HUGH BRADY. 



BY D. BETHU.VE DUFFIELD, ESQ. 



A woe is on tlie Nation's soul, 

And Soldier-hearts are sad and sore. 

As througli the land tlie tidings roll — 
" Our gallant Bkady is no more !" 

Upon his strong and noble frame. 

The hand of Time had gently pressed. 

And vigi}rous Youth still seemed entlironed, 
In all her pride, upon his breast. 

Thj'ough twice a score of weary years. 
His sword hung ever on his thigh ; 

And, down to Life's last tranquil hour. 
He never passed a duty by. 

In the red battle's fiercest blaze. 

He bravely bathed his conquering blade, 

And, fearless, dashed against the foe. 

While War's fierce hail around him played. 

His virtues, shining clear and bright. 
Have long adorned his honored life. 

And all his private walks and ways. 
With generous deeds, were ever rife. 

The eyes of all who knew the Man, 

Read Virtue in liis very name ; 
And, 'neath his bold and searching glance. 

Dishonor hid her head in shame. 



But fife, nor dnim, }io more shall wake 
The Wanior from his dreamless sleep ; 

Life's battle fouglit — the victory won — 
His feet now press Fame's liighest steep. 

Then kindly wrap the Nation's Flag 
Around tlie Hero's honored clay — 

Fit slu-oud for Soldier such as he, 
"SHio knew no joy, save in its ray ! 

And manly eyes may weep to-day. 
As sinks the Patriot to his rest ; 

The Nation held no truer heart 

Than that which beat in Bradtt's breast ! 



DETaoiT, April 15, 1851. 



APPENDIX. 



The foUo-n-itig extracts, taken from the private papers of Gen. H. Brady, giving 
an account of his ancestors and family, possess so mnch of general interest, as mat- 
ter of American biography, that there is no apology needed for having appended them 
to the Discourse. Concerning himself, he says : 

"I was born on the 20th day of July, 1768, at the Standing Stone, in Huntington 
County, Pennsylvania, and wa-s the fifth son — (they had six sons and four daugh- 
tere) — of John and Mary Brady. My brotliers all lived to be men, in every sense 
of the temi, and at a period when the qualities of men -were put to the most severe 
and enduring tests. While I was yet a child, my father moved on to the West 
Branch of the Susquehannah River, and pitched his tent about eight miles above 
the town of Northumberland. At this time, (as well as in later periods,) titles to 
wild lands could be obtained by erecting a log-house, and by girdling a few trees, 
by way of improvement, or cultivation. In this way, my father, John Brady, took 
up a vast quantity of land ; and, had he not fallen in the wai- of 1776, would have 
been one of the greatest land-holders in the State. But, owing to tlie dishonesty 
and mismanagement of those connected with him, his family received but little 
benefit from his exertions. Soon after the commencement of the war of 1776, he 
was appointed a Captain in the 12th Pennsylvania Regiment ; and, in a few weeks, 
having recruited his company, he joined the army, with which he remained imtil 
after the battle of Brandywine. 

"At this time,the Indians had become very troublesome in the settlements on the 
Susquehannah — so much so, that application was made to Gen. Washington, for 
regular troojis to protect the frontier. Not lieing in a condition to spare any troops 
at tliat monient, he ordered home, Capt. John Brady, Capt. Boone, and Lieuts. 
John and Samuel Dougherty, to use their influeuce in inducing the people to sus- 
tain themselves, until he could afford them other reUef. And nobly did they exe- 
cute his design. All that brave and experienced men could do, was done by them, 
even to sacrificing their lives in the defence of their country ; for, in less than two 
years from that date, Capts. Brady and Boone, and Lieut. Samuel Dougherty, had 
faUeu by the hands of the savages. Ten months before the death of Capt John 
Brady, his son James had fallen (in 1778) by the Indians. Another son, Samuel, 
was then an officer in the U. S. army. John was thea at home, in charge of the 
fomily, and in his 16th yeai*. 
3 



18 

"After the fall of Capt. Brady.my mother removed, Avitli her family, to her fether's 
place in Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, where she arrived in May, 1779, and 
■where she remained°till October of that year. She then removed to Buffalo Val- 
ley, about twenty miles below our former residence, and settled on one of our own 
farms. We found the tenant had left our portion of the hay and grain, which was 
a most fortunate circumstance. The winter following (1779 and '80) was a veiy 
eevei'e one, and the depth of the snow interdicted iill tiaveUing. Neighbore wore 
few, and the settlement scattered — so that the winter was solitary and dreary to a 
most painful degree. But, while the depth of the snow kept us confined at home* 
it had also the effect to protect us from the inroads of the savages. But, with the 
opening of the spring, the Indians returned, and killed some people not very re- 
mote from our residence. This induced Mrs. Brady to take shelter, with some ten 
or twelve famiUes, on th# West Branch, about thi-ee miles from our home. Pickets 
were placed around the houses, and the old men, women, and children, remained 
within during the day ; while all who could work and caiTy arms, returned to 
their farms, for the purpose of raising something so subsist upon. Many a day 
have I walked by the side of ray brother John, while he was ploughing, and carried 
my riile in one^nd, and a forked stick in the other, to clear the ploughshare. 

"Sometimes my mother would go with us to prepai'e our dinner. This was con- 
traiy to oiu- wishes ; but she said that, while she shared the dangers that surround- 
ed us, she was more contented than when left at the fort Thus we continued till 
the end of the war, when peace — happy peace — again invited the people to return 
to their homes. 

"In 1783, our mother was taken from us. In '84, my brother John married, and, 
soon after, my eldest sister followed his example. All the children younger Uiau 
myself, lived with them. I went to the western country, wtth my brother, Capt. 
Samuel Brady. He had been recently disbanded, and had mame<l a Miss Swearin- 
gen, in Washington County, Pa, He took me to his house at that place, and I 
made it my home imtil 1792, when I was appointed an Ensign in Gen. Wayne's 
army. Previous to this, my brother had moved into Ohio County, Va., and settled 
a short distance above Charlestown. At that day, the Indians were continually 
committing depredations along the frontier. West of the Ohio, the settlements were 
very sparse, and the people from the east side went frequently in pursuit of paities 
of marauding Indiana, who visited the nerghborhood. 

"I joined with several parties in pursuit of Indians,but only met them once in ac- 
tion. This was, I think, on the 22d of May, 1791. Our spies, in front, had discov- 
ed a trail of Indians, about eight miles up Indian Cross-cut, making for the settle- 
ments. The next morning, 10 citizens were met by Lieut Buskirk, with 12 State 
Rangers, at the old Mingo Town, and, from tliere, we went in pursuit After fol- 
lowing their trail till nearly sunset, we were fired Qu by the enemy, who lay con- 
cealed in a thicket. Lieut. Buskuk was killed, and three men were wounded. Af- 
ter a fight of about ten minutes, the Indians retreated, leaving one gun on the ground, 
and much blood on the bushes. We pursued them till dark, but did not overtake 
them. The next day, we returned to the field with a large party ; and, about 100 
yards up tlie stream which had divided the combatants, we found 22 Indian packs. 



19 

showing that oiit party of 22 raea had fought the saiiie number of Indians. It wah 
afterwards asceitained that eight of them died of wounds received, before they 
reached their towns, I had a fair shot at the bare back of one of them. I do not 
know whether I hit him, or not He did not fall ; and I think I was somewhat ex<' 
cited. 

"On the 5th of March following>1792, 1 was appointed an Ensign in a rifle coinpa-- 
ny, commanded by Capt. Joliu Crawford, a soldier of '76. WiUiam Clarke, of Ken- 
tucky, was the First Lieutenant. I reported to my Captain, and was put on tiia 
recruiting servica But, as the pay of a soldier was only $3 per month, I met with 
little success. Om- clothing was also iudift'erent, and the feelings of the peojilo 
generally averse to enUsting. Tliey did not consider regular soldiers the tiling, ex- 
actly, to fight Indians. I tii6n joined the head-quarters of the army, at Legionville 
— the spot where Harmony now stands, 20 miles below Pittsbiu-gh. The first duty 
I performed was on Christmas day, 1792, Avhen I commanded a picket guard. The 
ofiicer of the day, Major Mills, saw, at guai-d- mounting, that I was very green, and 
when he visited my guard, at 12 o'clock, he took much pains to instruct me. He 
also let me know at what hour at night the Grand Rounds would visit me. I had 
Baron Steuben's Tactics, and a good old Sergeant, and was pretty well prepared to 
receive the Rounds when they approached. 

"The Major complimented me, and remained with me for some time. His treat- 
ment had the etfect to inspire me with that confidence which is indispensible in a 
young officer, to enable him to perform any duty in a suitable manner. I then 
thought Steuben had nothing with which I was not familiar, and the confidence it 
gave me has unquestionably been of semce to me up to the present day. The his- 
tory and movements of that army are before the world ; but its sufferings and pri- 
vations are only known to those who shared them, of which I had my full propor- 
tion. Our campaign in Canada, during the war of 1812, -ft^as by no means interest- 
ing, and its privations, <fcc., were the subject of much discussion. Compared with 
the campaign of Gen. Wayne, it was aU sunshine. At its close, I was left under the 
command of CoL Hamtramck, at Foi-t "Wayna The force consisted of Capt. For' 
ter's company of artillery ; Capts. Kingsbury's, Grattan's, and Reed's companies of 
infantry ; and Capt Preston's company of riflemen, to vrhich I was attached. 

"During that winter, 1794-'5, we lived very poorly. Our beef came to us on the 
hoof, and poor, and We had little or nothing to fatten them with. Having no salt to 
cure it, it was slaughtered, and hung up under a shed, where, by exposure, it became 
perfectly weather-beaten, and as tough as an old hide. Of course, it made a miser- 
able soup. At the same time, our men received but half-rations of flour, and were 
working like beavers, to complete our quarters. Thus we Hved until about the mid- 
dle of February, when a brigade of pack-horses arrived, loaded %vith flour Jind salt^ 
and with them, tame a drove of hogs. From this time forward, we considered our- 
selves as living on the " fat of the land." An early spring followed, and with it, 
came ducks, geese, and ti-out, to improve our living ; and the Indians, soon after, 
came in with then- flags, to sue for peace ; and our time passed away pleasantly. 
The treaty was opened at Greenville, on the 4th of July, 1795, on which day I ar- 
rived at that place. I had been ordered there, as a witness in the case of Captain 



20 

Prestoii, who was tried fur disobeyiug the orJers of Col. Haiatrarack.^The Court 
sentenced him to be rcprimaudeil, imd the General liud it on jirctty heavy. 

"I remained at hcaxl-quaiters till the treaty was concluded, and then returned to 
Fort Wayne. While at Fort Wayne, I received many letters from my brothera, ur- 
ging me to resign. I had not seen tJiem for ten years. Those lettcre held out tho 
idea that they would wake my fortune. That, (and a desire to return to thchmd of 
my early habits, and to see my brothel's and sisters, who hiid grown from children, 
to be men and women, and most of them married,) decideil me to leave the service. 
I resigned my commission, and left Fort Wayne on the 20th November, 1795, and 
passed the next winter in Lexington, Kentucky. About the 1st of March following, 
I rode thi'ough to Limestone, (Maysville.) I there got into a (Quarter-Master's 
boat, and, in about three weeks, landed at ^^^lecling, Virginia. I spent a few days 
with the widow of my brother Samuel, who had died on the Christnros ])i-evioiis. I 
then purchased a horse, and reached home al>out tJie 20th of July. 1 went lu"st to 
•Capt. William Gray's, my brother-in-law. My sister, MiK Gray, cjimc to the door, 
and, as I inquu"ed for Mr. Gray, she put on rather an imporant look, and repUed — 
' I presume you will Ibid him at the store' — iuid turned into tho parlor. I was 
about turning on my heel, when I heard steps in the entry, and, turning round, I 
saw my sister Hannah. She iunnediately raised her hands, and exclaimed — 'My 
brother Hugh !' and flew into my arms. This was not a little surprising, as, when 
she saw me last, she could not have lieen more than eight yeai-s old. She knew me 
by my resemblance to my twin-sister Jane. I found my comiectious all living hjtp- 
pily, aud moving at the head of society. I piissed a happy thj-ee or fom- months 
with them, when I became weiuy of an idle Ufe, aud began to look for my promised 
forhine ; but, up to this day, have never been able to find it. I remained out of 
business till the winter oM798 and '9, when I was appointed a Captain in Adams' 
army, and, in less than two years, was disbanded. My brother William, who had 
been most m-geut for me to resign, now requested me to assist him to improve some 
wild lands he owned on the Mahoning River, about 50 miles from Pittsburgh. We 
commenced this settlement in the spring of 1802, and, that summer, built a giist- 
mill and a saw-milL All our breadstuff had to be carried about 30 miles on horee- 
back. Meat, I procured with ray rifle, deer being plenty, aud I could kill tliem 
without much loss of time fi-om other business. 

"I married in 1805,and took ray wife to our place in 1806, where Sarah and Pres- 
ton were born. During the time we were there, we were happy, and had a plenty 
of such things as the countiy afforded. All being on an equahty, as regarded our 
resoorces, were not annoyed by the insolence of wealthv StUl, I saw that my for- 
hme could not be made there, and, in 1810, I returned, with my family, to Nor- 
thumberland, and got along as well as I could, until 1812, when the war again 
called me into service ; since which time, the Government has provided for me. I 
have rendered her some service, and, with my brother-officers, have kept my shoul- 
der to the wheel This was no more than our duty to a country which suppoila 
us, and of wliich we are justly proud. 

"Thus I have given a sketch of my hfe, containing nothing unusual or strange 
among those of ray day and generation. But what a wonderful generation it has 
l<en — thi) most wonderful "f any pinoo th':' days of our Savior !" 



AN ACCOUNT OF TPIE DEATH OF JAMES BKADY. 



"I have already stated tliat my brother James fell by ti»e Indians, in 1778. It was 
in this manner : With 10 or 12 others, he went to help a neighbor haiTest his 
wheat, about 10 miles from the nearest station. On entering the iicld, they placed 
a sentinel at the most exposed point, and their arms convenient to their worlc. They 
had worked but a short time, when the sentinel gave an alarm. They all ran to their 
arms ; but it proved to be a false alai-m. After reprimanding the sentinel for hia 
unsoldierly conduct, they vetm-ned to their work ; but they had not long bi.'en reap- 
ing, when they heavd the report of a rifle, and their sentinel was killed. Without 
noticing the conduct of others, my brother ran to his rifle, and, as he stooped to pick 
it up, he received a shot, which broke his arm. This caused him to fall forwards^ 
and, before he could recover, a stout Indian was upon him— ^tomahawked him — 
scalped him — and left him for dead. After the Indians left the field, my brother 
recovered, and went to the house, where he found the rest of the reapers, who had 
run from the field without their arms, and without making any attempt to defend 
or rescue him. They sent James to his parents, at Sunbury, 40 miles from the spot 
where he received liis wound, which was on Saturday. He lived till the Thursday 
following, retained his senses, and related what is stated above. 

"James Brady was a remarkable man^ Nature had done much for him. His per- 
son was fine. He lacked but a quarter of an inch of six feet, and his mind was as 
well finished as his person. I have ever placed him by the side of Jonathan, son 
of Saul, for beauty of person, and nobleness of soul, and, like him, he fell by the 
hands of the Pliilistines." 



DEATH OP THE FATHER OF GEN. H. BRADY. 



"My father was killed on the 11th of April,n79> not more than half a mile from 
nis own house. He had left that morning, at the head of a party of men, to move 
in a family that had wintered at their farm, about 10 miles from my father's place; 
Having seen no sign of Indians, my father stopped at WaUis's Fort, and let the 
party go on with the family. He was the only person moimted, and intended, soon, 
to overtake the party ; but, unforutnately for him, his family, and the settlement, 
he overtook a man who had fallen behind, and remained with him till the Indians 
shot him dead. The man escaped by mtiunting my father's horse, after he had 
fallen. It is a remarkable fact, that this man, Peter Smith, was in the field where 
my brother was killed ; and, afterwards, his own family was mostly destroyed by 
Indians, and he again escaped. After the war, he settled in the Genesee country) 
and became a wealthy man. Some men are bom to luck." 

Note. — It is worthy of notice, that, although Gen. Brady fi-equently sought, but 
was ever unsuccessful in finding, the spot where his father was interred, one of his 
surviving daughters, Mrs. Backus, wife of Major Backus, was providentially made 
acquainted with the spot, during a visit, last summer, to the place of her grandfe* 
ther's residence. An old revolutionary soldier, who was with the fathei- of General 
Brady when he fell, and had known and marked the place of his interment) a short 
time before her visit, had, on his death-bed, requested to be buried beside his old 
Captain, and designated the spot His request was granted ; and there lie togeth- 
er, in the woods, the Captain, and the private of his company, in a place where the 
inhabitants of the neighborhood intend, it is said, to erect an appropriate monu- 
ment 



NOTICE OF JOHN BRADY, BROTHER OF GEN. H. BRADY. 



"My brother John, in his 15th year, was in the battle of Brandy^vine, and was 
wounded. On the retreat, he wotild have been captured, had not his Colonel taken 
him up behind him. 

"John had gone to the army with my father,in order to take home the hoi-ses rid- 
den out, and was directed by my father to return. But John heard from Ensign 
Boyd, that a battle was expected to be fought soon. He, therefore, remained to see 
the fun ; and when my father took command of his company, on the morning of 
the battle, he found John in the ranks, with a big rifle by his side. My fkther was 
woimded in the battle ; Ensign Boyd was killed ; and John received a wound du- 
ring the retreat. 

"As one good turn deserves another, t^vo of my brothers, many years after, mar^ 
ried two of the Colonel's daughters." 



NOTICE OF CAPTAIN SAMUEL BRADY, 



"Captain Samuel Brady entered the army as a volunteer when he was 19 years of 
age, and joined General Washington at Boston. A year after, he was appointed a 
Lieutenant, and returned home to recruit. He did not remam long. He belonged 
to Captain John Doyle's company. Hand's regiment, Wayne's brigade, and was 
with him at the surprise of Paoli, and most of the affairs in which that gallant Gen- 
eral was engaged. In 1779, his regiment, the 9th Pennsylvania, was ordered to 
Pittsburgh. It was then commanded by Colonel Brodhead. Soon after, my broth- 
er heard of his father's death ; and he waited, with impatience, for an opportunity 
to avenge it, on the Indians. Nor was the opportunity long delayed. The Indi- 
ans had attacked a family, and killed all in it, except a boy aged 12, and his sister, 
10. These were taken prisoners, and then- father was absent from home at the time 
it occurred. 

"The place was 30 miles east of Pittsburgh, and it so happened, Samuel was out 



24 

in that direction ; and, bearing of it, he started in ]Knsiiit, having with liim a friend- 
ly Indian, very useful as a guide. The second evening of the pureuit, the paity 
stoppal on the top of ahigli liilJ, and the Indian guiilc pointed witli his wiping 
stick to the foot of the hill, antl said — ' Tlio Red 15auk runs tlieie.' The men sat 
down, while the Captain consulted with the Indian about bis future movements, 
Suddcidy, the Indian sprang to his feet, and said lie smelt fire ; and, soon after, tiiey 
saw the smoke curling above the trees, on tlie oj)positeside of the Red Bank. 

"The Indian said — 'They wiU sleep by that tire to-night.' 'And I will awake 
th3m in a voice of thunder in the morning,' replied the Captain. The Indian also 
said — 'After they smoke and e;it, and the sun has gone to sleep, they will give the 
scalp halloo.' 

♦'Willi breathless impatience, the part}' wntcheil the scttiiig of the sun, and, as its 
light disappeared from the tops of the tree.s in the east, they heard seven distinct 
scalp halloos, with the usual whoop between each. After it wiis over, Cole, the In- 
dian observed — ' There a;e fourteen warriors, and they have five scalps and two 
prisoners.' The night being clear, and the weather mild, the Captain remained in 
his position till near morning, when he forded the stream above the Indians, and 
posted his men, to await the crack of liis rifle, as the signal of attack. As day broke, 
an Indian rose up, and stirred the fire. The signal wiis given. The Indian, stand- 
ing, pitched into the tire. The attack continued, and resulted in eight of the war- 
rioi-s being deprived of the pleasure of ever again giving the scalp halloo. When 
the Captain got to the fire, he found the children much alarmed. After quieting 
their feai-s, the boy asked for tlie Captain's tomahawk, and commenced cutting off 
the head of the Indian that fell in the fire, observing that this was the leader of the 
party, and the man that killad and ssalpod his mother. The boy was permitted to 
finish the job he had commenced, 

"Three easy days' march brought the Captain back to Pittsburgh. The tiither of 
the childieu was sent for to receive his lost ones. He showed much affection, on 
meeting his cliildi'en, and thanked the Captain for having restored them ; and then 
asked the Captain what had become of his * big basin.' It ap])eared that tjie Indians 
had canied oft) or destioyed, a big basin, from which Henry and his numerous fam- 
ily ate their sourcrout The honest Dutchman thought there could Ije no imjjro- 
priety in asking for it, of the man who had the best chance to know. 

"In 1804, the Avriter met Henry (the boy) at a friend's house, in Greensburgh, 
PsL H'jniy had slopped, with a wagon, before the door, and liad a barrel of cider 
for my friend, who, pointing to me, said — ' This gentleman is a brother of Captain 
Brady, who took you from the IndiaiLS.' Hemy was assisting to remove the ci- 
der, and he gave me a side-look for a moment, and then continued his work. I felt 
hurt at the coldness he showed towards the brother of a mnii who had risked his 
life to rescue him from death or bondage, and to avenge tlie murder of his family. 
My friend informed me that Henry owned the farm f.om which he wxs captured, 
and was as rich as any farmer in the county. I thought, then, if his circunittmces 
were as easy as his manners, he probably liad at home, in tlie old family chest, :is 
many dollars as woidd fill his fjither'sbig bagin. 

"At the request of his Colonel, Capt. Brady visited the Sandusky towns, at the 



25 

Lead of four or five men, and lay concealed over ten days — so that he coxikl see all 
their movcraents. It was a tinic for horsj-racing among the Indians, and men, 
women, children, and dogs, were all in attendance. A gray horse was the winner 
until the evening of the second day, when they compelled him to carry two riders, 
(a new way to handicap,) when he was finally beaten. The Indians then retired 
from the field. That evening, Capt. Brady took two squaws prisoners, and started 
for home. On the second day of theii' journey, they were overtaken by a frightful 
thmider-storm, which destroyed their provisions, and desti'oyed most of Uieir pow- 
der, having but three or fom' loads of good powder left in a priming horn. The 
stormy weather continued several days. After it cleared away, the Captain, just 
before night, went ahead of liis party, hoping to kill some game, as they were with- 
out provisions. The party was then ti'avelling on an Indian trail. He had not 
gone far, when he met a jiarty of Indians retimiing from the settleTncuts, with a 
woman and child, prisoners. The Captain shot the leader of the paiiy, rescued the 
woman, and endeavored to obtain the child, that was sti'apped to the back of the 
Indian he had shot But he had not time to do so, as the Indians had ascertained 
that he was alone, and had retm-ned to their leader. He was, therefore, compelled 
to fiill back, and he took the woman with him. His men, seeing the Inchans, and 
supposing the Captain was killed, made their way to the nearest fort, and let the 
squaw run away. The other squaw had escaped during the great thunder-storm 
The next day, he met a party coming from Fort Mcintosh, to bury him, his men 
having reported him killed. A few days after, he retm-ned, with a party, to the 
battle-gi-ound, and found the dead Indian. 

"In 1835, the writer met, at the town of Deti'oit, a son of the boy that was 
sti-apped to the back of the Indian. He informed me, that, after Wayne's treaty* 
liis father was delivered up, at Pittsburgh, by the Indiana Wlien the land west of 
the Ohio, came into market, his father bought the lot on which the affair took 
place, and built his house, as near as he could ascertain, on the spot where the 
Indian fell, and Kved tliere till 18 months prior to our conversation, when he was 
killed by the faUing of a tree. His name was Stupps, and he was a fine-looking 
man. I remember his grandmother's name was Jane Stupps ; and I have often 
heard my brother relate the above story. 

"On the Beaver River, is a jjlace known as Brady's Bend, where he had a hard 
fight, and killed many of the enemy, Avith small loss on his own side. His enter- 
prising disposition, and his skill in stratagems, in which he equalled any Indian, 
enabled him to do more towards protecting the frontier, than all his regiment be- 
sides. Indeed, he was looked ujion by the whole country, as theur surest jjrotector ; 
and all the recompense he ever received, was in a reward of $500 being offered by 
Gov. McKain for his person.for having,in 1791,kiUed a party of Indians on Brady's 
Run, 30 miles below Pittsburgh. He suirendered himself for trial, and was honor- 
ably acquitted — he having proved, to the satisfaction of tlie Court and jury, that 
those Indians had killed a family, on the head of TVTieeling Creek, Ohio County, 
Va, That, on receiving notice of the murder, he suspected those Indians had come 
out of Pennsylvania. He, therefore, crossed the Ohio, at the mouth of the Wheel- 
ing, and, by steering west, came on the ti'ail, and pursued it to where he attacked 
them. 



"'Wlicn Gen. Wajnc amvctl at Pittsburgli, iu 1793, he sent for Capt. Brady, wlio 
Ihed in Ohio County, "\'a., and gave him command of all tlie spies then in the em- 
ploy of the Government, amoiznting to 60 or 70 men. The Captain so disposed of 
them, that not a depredation -was committed on the frontier. On the contrary, three 
or four times, the Indians were surjirised in their own country, 30 or 40 miles in 
;advance of the white settlements. His plan of caiTying the war into the Indian 
.countiy, put a stop to all murders on that frontier. He continued in command of 
these Rangers until the period of his death, which occiured on Christmas day, 1795 
at his house, about two miles west of West Liberty, Va., (in the 39th j ear of hi.s 
age.) His disease was pleurisy. He left a widow and two sona 

"Xever was a man more devoted to his country, and few — veiy few — have reu- 
.dered more important seiTices, if wo consider the nature of the service, and the 
pai-t performed by him personally. He was 5 feet 11 ?4^ inches in height, with a 
j)erfect form. He was rather light — his weight exceeding, at no time, 168 pounds 
As I have said before, there were six brothers, viz.: Samuel, James, John, William 
P., Hugh, and Robert There was but half an inch difference in our heights. John 
was six feet and an inch, and I was the shortest of them alL Is it not remarkable, 
that I, who was considered the most feeble of all, should outlive all my brothers, 
after having been exposed to more dangere and vicissitudes than any, cxco]3t Samu- 
el ? Is it not a proof that there is, from the beginning, ' a day appointed for man 
to die V It is said — ' The race is not to the swift, or the battle to tiie gt;-ong ; but 
safety is of the Lord.' Thiit has ever been my belief." 



